Those Gentle Slopes that Lead to Hell

by Severus divides into H

Proud. Unique. Determined. From the second Sebastian sensed Ciel Phantomhive's soul, he realized their contract would be different. He was ready for it. And so he waits. He hungers. He is getting obsessed. He will do anything to devour this soul, and the fragile attachment to the boy that has begun to spread its icy fingers in him will not stop him. He thinks. [SebaCiel].

18. Chapter 18: That Festering Disease

A/N: Replies are at the end!)

Chapter Eighteen: That Festering Disease

The scar Madam Red had left on his arm was healing again, more quickly than Ciel would have preferred.

Pursing his lips tersely, he dug his fingers into it, burying them in the wound and tearing into it with his nails. At this point, the action was familiar and almost methodical, and like he expected, the waves of pain cooled down the anger sizzling under his skin.

Nothing more than a dog. Regardless of the uniqueness of its breed, eventually, it's going to assume its inferior place.

Growling, Ciel stabbed his nails into the wound more viciously, staring at it until it began to bleed.

He didn't want the scar to fade. It was the only tangible reminder of Madam Red he had left. And right now, it was the best way to ground himself and to stop himself from wreaking chaos around the house just to let this boiling fury out.

If you know how to handle it… the interest towards it will wane.

"You wish," Ciel snarled aloud. Then he froze, throwing a wary glance at the door. With Sebastian's hearing and the seal, he could have sensed that something was wrong and come to investigate. Seeing him now was the last thing Ciel would tolerate.

Glaring at the new wound, he stalked towards the chess table. It didn't help to settle his nerves, so he glared at it, too, before resuming his pacing.

Sebastian could insult him all he wanted. He did not experience any actual feelings for him, but that was fine — Ciel didn't need feelings. He wanted regard. He wanted respect. He wanted to be the one contract Sebastian would never forget, and until a week ago, he was certain that he was being successful. There had to be something beyond the hunger and the indifference — their latest game had proved it.

But the words spoken during their time in Houndsworth were haunting, and Ciel couldn't get them out of his head no matter how much he tried. The initial bitter anger turned into pure rage that heated his blood, making it pulse with the vengeful desire to trap Sebastian in some way, to make him eat every single word he had spoken. The question was, how to do that?

The wound thrummed with sobering pain. Ciel rubbed it instinctively as his mind flew forward, dissecting the available options and trying to settle on one.

He could make Sebastian Pluto's personal caretaker, force him to clean the manor with his tongue, forbid him to speak a word aloud ever again, but these were crude and inefficient ways of re-establishing control. No, he needed something bigger. Something definitive.

If there was a way to determine when Sebastian lied and when he spoke the truth…

The idea was startling enough to stop Ciel in his tracks.

Demons were deceitful by nature, and if he could take this ability from Sebastian, his victory would be unparalleled. It would set a whole new direction for their relationship — the balance would tilt, and Sebastian would find himself in the most disadvantageous position.

The flood of excitement pushed all the frustration down. Grinning, Ciel jumped into his bed, staring at the ceiling but seeing only the lines from the letter he would compose tomorrow.

He was rarely interested in new scientific developments or in artefacts with a dubious history, but what if he could find something truly useful? Some kind of an object that tracked the lies no matter how convincing they were? Lau knew a lot about the happenings of the underworld, so if anyone could offer advice here, that would be him.

Lies were such a common problem for all people, someone must have invented a solution to it by now. And if it existed, Ciel would make sure he was the one to possess it.

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The blood from his wound had stained his clothes and his sheets both. Ciel hated seeing his things in disarray, but in this particular case, it was worth it because the look on Sebastian's face was priceless.

"I don't understand," he said, sounding so dismayed and perplexed that Ciel barely kept his face straight. "Why won't it heal? The treatment I apply is the same I've been using for years. What makes this wound different?"

"I see that your incompetence truly knows no limits," Ciel sniffed disdainfully, raising his chin to amplify the effect. "Do you know anything about humans? Right hands differ from other body parts. They require a unique kind of treatment."

"No, they don't," Sebastian narrowed his eyes. But the way he paused betrayed his insecurity, and Ciel nearly crowed in excitement. Could Sebastian really be this stupid?

"Well, the proof is right here, isn't it?" he waved his wounded hand with a grimace. "How long have you been treating it? And yet it still hurts. Does it not tell you anything?"

Sebastian scowled, but his eyes stayed on the wound. Ciel could practically see how his thoughts kept filtering through the instances where he had to treat humans, trying to determine if he'd ever encountered similar problems.

"I treated both of your arms before," he proclaimed at last. "On several occasions."

"Yes?" Ciel stared at him with all gravity he could master. "Then how do you explain this? Or do you think I have nothing better to do than to mutilate my own hand just for the sake of it?"

Red eyes narrowed even further. Ciel supposed he could watch Sebastian puzzle over humans and his intentions in particular all day long, but he had more important matters to attend to at the moment.

"Figure it out," he commanded curtly. "Fix this, then help me to get dressed. I have a busy schedule."

Sebastian had just begun to move, but after Ciel's words he stopped again, a surprised expression returning to his face.

"Your schedule is free for today," he said slowly. And yes, it was, but frustrating Sebastian was a skill Ciel didn't want to get rusty.

Rolling his eyes in fake exasperation, he stretched out his arm gracefully, waiting for Sebastian to treat the wound. He purposefully kept silent during the whole process, intercepting every questioning look thrown his way and waiting, knowing that he wouldn't the one to lose his patience first.

His expectations were fulfilled.

"Are there any affairs you plan on tending to today?" Sebastian asked, his voice carefully neutral.

"Yes," Ciel replied. He didn't elaborate, almost smiling when he sensed Sebastian's curiosity quickly morph into frustration.

If Sebastian was really desperate, he would ask another question. If he had any self-respect, he'd finish their morning ritual in sulking silence before leaving to harass the servants.

For another minute, there was nothing. Ciel was close to accepting the second outcome when Sebastian spoke again.

"Will there be any orders for me?"

Oh, this was almost too easy.

Ducking his head to hide his smile, Ciel drawled, "No." The word rang with contempt. Sebastian must have sensed it because he stiffened, his movements faltering.

"But if you crave being ordered around this much, you can ask Bard for assistance," Ciel added, and Sebastian dropped the shirt he was holding.

By the time they were finished, he nearly fled the room.

It was an absolute success — a small and trivial one, but success nonetheless. Ciel only hoped that Lau would also have some pleasing news for him.

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Lau replied quickly, which was good. He replied with a specific name and an address, which was better than good. But this was where Ciel's luck ran out.

He'd never spoken to Baron Annesley before, but he knew enough about the man to be disgusted with him. The only reason why Ciel ignored his dark dealings was the Queen's favour Annesley held and openly boasted of. And now he would have to speak with him and try to cajole sensitive information out of him? Annesley would never let him live that down — Ciel hated having to owe someone something. Blackmailing others into assisting him was a far more satisfying technique.

The address was familiar, too — a gathering where people with darker reputation mingled to talk, hint at the secrets they knew, and measure the competition. The invitation was lying somewhere in Ciel's table for over a week now. He'd had no intention of going, but if Lau believed he needed Annesley, and Annesley was going to be one of the guests, then he had no choice, did he?

Shuddering at the idea of participating in something this distasteful, Ciel pushed back against his chair.

Maybe he should just discard this plan? Investing so many efforts into a blind search for an object that might not even exist, all for a demon who did not deserve a second of his time?

The thought of being able to stop was comforting, so Ciel allowed it to warm him a little before carefully squashing it.

He needed another decisive win. Therefore, he would attend that ridiculous gathering.

At least he wouldn't be the only one to suffer there.

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If Sebastian was surprised by Ciel's announcement about their visit, he hid it well. His face betrayed nothing but frozen politeness, and though Ciel was sure it was masking a giant sulk, he didn't care enough to dig it out. Anxiety and excitement alternated by twisting his insides in different directions, and leaving this semblance of a ball with the answer he wanted was all he could focus on.

People noticed his presence fairly quickly. Some reacted with delight, others with wariness — considering who this public was, they were more knowledgeable than the guests that crowded more typical events. It was flattering to see these reactions, the interest and the hesitancy, the worry and the envy, but since his reputation presupposed all that as it was, Ciel refused to feel flattered.

Sebastian shadowed him silently through his slow progression across the room. Ciel barely sensed his presence as he stopped to have a series of short and annoying conversations, scanning the guests for Annesley and hoping he would be able to recognise him.

"I'm honoured that you decided to grace us with your presence, Earl Phantomhive," Lady Jordin said excitedly. Ciel nodded stiffly. From what he knew, the hostess was a formidable woman, but one others should stay clear of unless they wanted to find themselves saddled with illegal things that didn't belong to them. "Are you enjoying the evening? Is there anything I could ask Bartholomew to get for you?"

"No, thank you," Ciel tilted his head with a small smile. "I'm here for business, not entertainment."

Jordin tensed, a wary look overtaking her features. She threw a quick glance at Sebastian before looking at Ciel again, even more apprehensive this time.

Pleased with this outcome, Ciel nodded at her and continued his search.

Jordin would likely share his words with others, and they would be too worried pondering whom his target could be to approach him. This could save him a lot of time — time that he didn't want to waste on meaningless but customary talks.

"Is the name Bartholomew a full name for Bard?" Sebastian murmured somewhere behind his back. Ciel nearly stumbled from the suddenness of it.

"What?" he snapped.

"Bartholomew," Sebastian quirked an eyebrow. "Perhaps we should call Bard by this name from now on."

"Why would you— he's not a Bart, is he? Bard doesn't stand for Bartholomew."

"But he must have a full name. It cannot really comprise only four letters, and if it can, then perhaps it should be changed. Such short names are the embodiment of plain imagination and poor taste."

"My name has four letters," Ciel growled before he could stop himself from engaging in this ridiculous argument. Sebastian measured him with a long, thoughtful gaze.

"I see," he uttered.

"Shut up! You don't even have a name, I made one up for you!"

"That doesn't mean I don't have a name. And I can assure you, it's composed of more than four letters."

If they weren't surrounded by so many people, Ciel would have thrown his hands in the air.

"Who cares!" he hissed instead. "Unless you are willing to share it, stop talking. I'm busy."

"Are you looking for someone specific? I could—"

This was when Ciel finally noticed his target. Annesley was standing near the food-filled table, talking to a young woman with familiarity that bordered on being offensive.

That wasn't anything new, if Annesley's background was to be believed, but a surge of annoyance still swept through him. Grimacing, Ciel took a deep breath and approached, forcing his lips to fold in a fake smile. The moment he did, Sebastian let out a quiet mocking noise, and Ciel immediately turned his head to glare.

How did Sebastian know the second he tried to fake-smile at someone? He was standing behind his back! And this attempt wasn't that bad — maybe the effect wasn't as charming as Ciel would have preferred, but at the very least, it was neutral. It had to be.

"Earl Phantomhive!" Annesley exclaimed. The rapture on his face was genuine, so the smile must have worked.

Sending Sebastian a brief smug look, Ciel shifted his attention, hoping he looked friendly enough.

"Good evening, baron," he drawled. "I hope my company is not disturbing you?"

"Not at all!" A slow, predatory grin lit Annesley's face. He leaned forward, grabbing Ciel's hand and clenching it in his in an exaggerated and inappropriate greeting.

The woman he'd been bothering hastened to retreat with a grateful look, as if Ciel had come here to save her personally — and what he wouldn't give for that to be true! Investigating something and ripping the offender apart was simple. Having to withstand the attention of someone like Annesley was torture, and the worst thing was that Ciel hadn't been prepared.

All rumours said that Annesley chased women — wealthy or poor, it didn't matter. He was obnoxious about his interest and his preferences lied with those who were too shy, too unwilling, or too weak to refuse him outright. Ciel didn't belong to any of these categories, so the last thing he expected was to become the object of this disgusting stare and the hands that refused to let go of his arm even now that the greeting was over.

A rumbling warning sound reached his ears. It was a barely-audible mix of a hiss and a growl, and it was inhuman enough for Ciel to kick Sebastian with his heel and hope it wasn't very obvious.

Annesley's expression didn't change — it remained just as leering, so he must have missed this small exchange. He finally let go of his hand but immediately made the situation worse by taking a step closer, cutting the distance between them.

Sebastian's whispery hiss reverberated through Ciel's chest again, and this time, he couldn't ignore it. Murmuring an apology to Annesley, he backed away until he reached a column, a place behind which he could safely drag Sebastian to curse at him without being heard.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he whispered furiously. A flush was fighting its way on his face, and Ciel wasn't sure if it was from humiliation or from the weird pleasure that was curling inside him. "Are you some untrained beast? You're embarrassing me!"

Sebastian stared at him with confusion so genuine that Ciel would have bought it if he hadn't heard those strange noises with his own ears.

"My lord?"

"The hissing! Or the growling, whatever it was. You wouldn't shut up — what was that? People don't just hiss at others, I thought you understood this much!"

A flash of realisation in Sebastian's eyes rapidly shifted into a shock so profound that Ciel almost reeled back under its force. Its impact felt physical, as if every part of Sebastian's body was emanating astonishment and disbelief, threatening to drown anyone who stood too close in them. He didn't say anything, and Ciel remained silent as well, too confused to risk speaking again.

When it didn't look like Sebastian's brain was going to start its work any time soon, Ciel finally shook off his stupor and straightened. He had Annesley to harass — there was no time for demonic break-downs.

"Get yourself under control," he ordered. "And you're exiled for an hour. Do what you want but don't come here unless I call you."

This got him a new reaction — Sebastian tensed, with the first flickers of awareness returning to his previously-blank stare.

"I hardly think this is a good idea," he said slowly. His hand went to his throat, touching it carefully, like he wanted to make sure his voice was working properly. It was so bizarre that Ciel frowned, even more at a loss now. What was happening?

"I hardly think it's any of your business," he mimicked. "Do what I told you."

Sebastian glanced at Annesley and his eyes darkened. However, this time, there were no sounds, so Ciel counted it as a victory.

"Go," he repeated. "If your meal is in trouble, rest assured, it will call you."

"My meal?" Sebastian's forehead creased in confusion, and Ciel gawked at him.

"Me!" he exclaimed. "What is wrong with you today? You are even more stupid than you are normally!"

A pink flush stained Sebastian's cheeks. It was fascinating, but it was also taking time, so Ciel waved his hand dismissively.

"I'm not going to repeat myself again," he warned. "Leave and be back in an hour. Not sooner."

Without waiting for a reply, he walked back to Annesley, putting yet another smile on his face.

When Ciel glanced back the next time, Sebastian was gone.

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Annesley was drinking a lot. He expected Ciel to drink, too, and Ciel did, but the effects it had on them were vastly different. Annesley acted like he did before while the world around Ciel slowly started swimming. His thoughts were now moving slowly and lazily, and concentrating was getting increasingly difficult.

If he drank one more glass, he would be unable to talk coherently at all. An hour had almost passed, and he still hadn't learned anything. He tried being friendly and approachable, but it clearly wasn't working — and on second thought, why did he even bother? He was Ciel Phantomhive. He was supposed to be intimidating, not friendly. Friendly was for fools with no reputation while he was… he was not that. Was he?

Rubbing his forehead in an attempt to chase the dizziness from it, Ciel closed his eyes briefly, trying to focus.

He had a task. He wanted to know about the tool that could detect lies. He needed to get it to deal with Sebastian once and for all. Annesley held the answer — or at least Lau believed he did. There was no reason to play nice, especially not with a man who kept staring at him in a way that made him feel coated in dirt. Why hadn't he tried a tactic he wanted sooner?

His tongue felt heavy, but his determination won out. Ciel raised his head, pinning Annesley to a place with his stare.

This time, it was cold. This time, he wasn't pretending.

"Enough," he said shortly. The word sounded sharp and ominous, just the way he'd wanted, and Annesley froze. The voluptuous smile finally slipped from his face. Grim satisfaction flooded Ciel's veins, cooling down some of the effects the alcohol had on him, and he leaned closer, enjoying being the one to encroach upon Annesley's personal space this time.

"Do you think I'm enjoying listening to your meaningless chatter?" he murmured. "I know who you are. I know what you do and what you're famous for. I also know every little secret you've been trying to hide from the public, including the Queen. I wonder, would she still need your services if someone told her what her loyal servant has been up to?"

Truth to be told, Ciel had no idea what additional secrets Annesley was keeping, but he guessed right — his face lost all of its colours, turning white as sheet.

The pleasure from it was almost enough to sober him up completely. Chuckling, Ciel leaned even closer, watching the play of conflicting emotions unfold right before his eyes.

"Let me tell you what we're going to do about that," he drawled. "You have the information I want. You will give it to me and I'll consider not informing Her Majesty about your dirty deeds. If you refuse, this will be the last evening you spend in a cultured society like this. Is that clear?"

Annesley jerked his head in a nod. Sweat broke out all over his skin with the speed that was almost unbelievable, and the way he stared at him now was even more intense than before. There were fear and panic, and a strange excitement in his eyes, as if he was terrified yet enchanted at the same time.

Off-putting, but better than before. Ciel should have done this an hour ago.

"I'm certain you're aware of the nature of the job I'm doing for the Queen," he uttered frostily. "When a problem appears, I solve it. When there is a threat, I eliminate it. Now, I enjoy what I do, but sometimes I require some extra leverage. I already have it over you, but you—" Ciel pointed at Annesley with his finger before realising it'd missed its target. Grimacing in embarrassment, he hastened to put his hand down. "You are a small fish in a very, very big ocean. And I need a tool for dealing with the bigger fish faster than I have been doing so far. Do you understand what I'm talking about?"

Annesley stammered. His face changed colours at least three times before he managed a coherent answer.

"Could you b-be more specific?"

Ciel gave him a flat stare. He hoped he was making direct eye contact, but with how uneven the images around him were, he couldn't be sure.

"I'm looking for a way to determine the weaknesses of the big fish," he said. His words stretched lazily, turning into a slur, and he frowned. This wouldn't do. Maybe some more bluntness was needed. "He lies," Ciel announced. "The big fish, I mean. It lies. And it really doesn't like you, so it could snap your neck with one touch."

As Annesley spluttered, Ciel nodded sagely.

"He's a dangerous opponent," he noted, "one that I intend to bring down. He thinks humans are weak, so I'm going to make him just as weak. His body can betray the information I want, I only need something to decipher the—"

"Oh!" Annesley exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with relief. "I understand now!"

"You do?" Ciel moved away, pleased with himself. "Excellent. So, where can I find it?"

"There is an auction in London," Annesley wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. Even though he lowered his voice, it was still obviously trembling. "In two weeks. It's not common knowledge, but I assume you've heard of it?"

"Yes," Ciel lied. If there was an auction, he would locate it, that wasn't a problem.

Annesley nodded, like he hadn't expected any other answer.

"Talbot's camera is going to be there," he muttered. "It was considered lost, but I've managed to procure it and sell it for a good price. It'll be there, I guarantee it."

"A camera?" Ciel repeated, furrowing his brows. Could cameras detect lies? How did that work?

"This is what you need, correct?" Annesley licked his lips nervously. "This camera is a tricky thing. It'll expose the weakness of a… fish… you take the image of. Could be material possessions, could be people or creatures. Of course, the precious item won't be from this world, but this is what you're looking for, isn't it? Leverage that cannot be found through ordinary means?"

For a while, Ciel watched him blankly. His brain struggled to make sense of what it'd just heard, and when it finally happened, a ray of excitement shot through the drunken mist in his mind.

A camera that would capture not just a person, but the thing this person cared about most? Even better, a thing belonging to another world? So if someone photographed him, he would appear together with… His predecessor? His predecessor's wife? People that no longer existed in this mortal realm.

Consequently, when applied to Sebastian… it would show what Sebastian valued most in this world. Ciel's world. Because hell was a separate and independent universe, wasn't it?

Suddenly overcome with exhilaration, Ciel stood up, but everything around him tilted so suddenly that he swayed on his feet. Annesley reached out to catch him, and Ciel would have recoiled if he hadn't heard a swooping sound of the moving darkness. Sebastian slapped Annesley's hands away with enough force to send him stumbling, and before Ciel knew it, he was being held in a familiar strong grip. He relaxed, letting the back of his head rest against Sebastian for a moment.

"Thank you, baron," he muttered. "Let's consider this conserva… this talk finished for today. Your secret is safe with me. For now."

The efforts he'd wasted on concentrating came to an end. His coherency fled, and as soon as he finished the last phrase, his tongue grew heavy and uncooperative. Drowsiness returned with doubled force, and Ciel barely remembered how Sebastian led him out of this stifling party. One moment, they were still walking, but then they were flying, and it was far more preferable to travelling in a carriage.

He must have dosed off because when he opened his eyes again, they were outside the manor, with Sebastian's measured steps being the only thing breaking the night silence.

"Do you know who that man was?" Sebastian asked. His voice sounded serene, but there was something ugly coiling underneath. Ciel liked it.

"Of course I do," he mumbled. Craning his neck, he looked around the familiar hall and began to squirm. "Put me down. I can walk."

He thought he heard an exasperated sigh, but a moment later, his feet touched the solid ground. They still felt wobbly, so Ciel had to grab Sebastian's sleeve to keep himself upright.

"I doubt that you do," Sebastian said. It took a while for Ciel to remember what they were discussing, and when he did, he huffed indignantly.

"Of course I do," he argued. "Annesley. A baron. He has a bad reputation and a lot of power. Women are his weak spot. Probably something else, too. I managed to scare him, so—"

The colours blurred. Ciel shook his head with a frown, hoping to restore some clarity, and when he did, he realised that they'd stopped walking. Sebastian had pushed him against the wall, regarding him with a strange, intent expression.

"What a naïve and unobservant boy you are," he uttered, derision dripping from every condescending word. It sounded offensive, but Ciel wasn't sure he grasped the entire meaning here.

"Why?" he murmured. Sebastian stared silently.

"What if I told you that Annesley has spent the last months trying to summon a demon?" he asked at last. His words were deceptively quiet, but even in his state, Ciel could recognise the venom they contained. "He has one very particular desire. It has nothing to do with the women you mentioned and everything to do with you. Baron Annesley appears to have quite a strong obsession with you, to the point where he's seeking help from the forces he could never comprehend with his tiny human mind."

Ciel wrinkled his nose, disgusted but unimpressed.

"I knew it," he announced unsteadily. "So I'm not naïve or unbsers… that."

Sebastian blinked. His expression changed again, with surprise spreading across his features.

"That's it?" he clarified. "I must admit, I expected a stronger reaction. Given your issues with the attention of this kind."

"You are very bold today," Ciel narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "And you're acting differently. Why?"

For some reason, when Sebastian laughed, this laughter rang somewhere in Ciel's stomach, sending sparkles of warmth up to his heart. Then his thoughts came to a complete stop because Sebastian's fingers touched his chin, lifting it carefully.

"You won't remember a word from this conversation in the morning," Sebastian murmured. His lips were parted in a strange grin — half-fond, half-derisive. "That's what happens when one drinks too much alcohol unprepared. You became almost as slow as other humans."

"Shut up," Ciel swung at him weakly, annoyed despite the buzzing in his head. "You are… other humans. I'm exceptional."

More laughter, and more warmth encircling him. Pleased that he made Sebastian laugh twice in a minute, Ciel pushed himself off the wall and tried to continue climbing up the endless stairs.

"So why aren't you concerned?" the question was thrown at his back, and Ciel had to stop to answer properly. He wasn't sure he could do both things at the same time.

"Many people are drawn to power," he explained. A huge yawn interfered with his words, and when it passed, he tried again. "Even if Annesley is obsessed, he's not the first and not the last. It's not me they want. It's never me, it's what I represent."

Silence answered his words, so Ciel decided to elaborate.

"You know, an heir to a noble family for the cult," he explained. "A person of note in the underworld. It's all about status. And I'm no longer afraid because I have you. Oh." A new idea occurred to him. He attempted to turn to Sebastian, but his legs didn't cooperate on time. He would have fallen over if Sebastian hadn't caught him again.

"Did you say Annesley was trying to summon a demon?" Ciel demanded incredulously. "He knows how to do that? How did you know— I've never even talked to this man before. And what, do demons not like his soul or something?"

"Most demons have no taste," Sebastian stated disdainfully. When Ciel tried to untangle himself from his hold again, it only tightened. "They would have made a deal with him if they hadn't known you belong to me."

"You belong to me, I don't belong to you," Ciel said automatically, but when full implications of Sebastian's words hit him, he jerked in glee. "Does it mean that you would fight your fellow demons for me? If one were to respond to Annesley's summons?"

"I would fight for any of my contractors," Sebastian opened the door to Ciel's bedroom, but he didn't enter. When Ciel's woozy brain registered this fact, he peered into Sebastian's face. It was contemplative and distant, and so far out of his reach that for a moment, a jealous anger flooded his chest.

He wanted to yank Sebastian by his hair and force him to look at him. He wanted to order him to never look away. He wanted…

Red eyes snapped back to him, as if Sebastian had overheard his thoughts.

"I would fight for any of them," he repeated softly, "even if they were unworthy. Reputation is not taken lightly by any of the demons. But for you? For you, I believe I would fight to the death."

Joy filled him in a smooth, powerful wave, and Ciel grinned at Sebastian, unable to help himself.

"I would accept nothing less," he stated happily. A startled snort and a chuckle were his answer, and he took them with all the drunken overflowing eagerness.

Sebastian finally carried him into the room and started to prepare him for bed. Undressing was boring, so Ciel let his thoughts wander.

"What happened to your hand?" Sebastian asked. It was so out of blue that Ciel stared at him for almost a minute in utter incomprehension before finally connecting the dots.

"It's not important," he mumbled, frowning at his scar.

"If you want it healed, I need to know. How else would I treat it effectively?"

"I don't want it healed," Ciel protested. Sebastian's hands paused. When Ciel looked up, he saw that his eyes were wide and incredulous.

"Are you deliberately harming yourself?" Sebastian asked slowly.

For some reason, a part of Ciel didn't think replying would be a good idea. But he couldn't justify it to himself, so after brief hesitation, he sighed.

"S'not about harm," he murmured tiredly. "It's a reminder of Madam Red. And it feels good."

The staring didn't stop. Somehow, it got worse because now it also felt judgemental, not simply intrusive.

"Sentimentality," Sebastian drawled finally, and the word felt like an insult. "Has her death truly broken your heart? How very human of you."

"I am human," Ciel growled, upset. Had he said something wrong? Why did things increasingly not make sense? "And I'm not heartbroken. I didn't even like her all that much. I just want a reminder. Is this so hard to understand?"

"It's downright impossible to understand." Sebastian touched his chin again, gazing at him attentively. "Sometimes I feel like it is a lost cause. Nothing about you is comprehensible."

Ciel wasn't sure what to say to this, so he just shrugged. Sebastian continued to study him, and now that the mockery wasn't there, it felt good. It felt so good that the next question formed itself.

"And if I were heartbroken? Or sentimental? Would that make my soul less desirable?"

Sebastian released him. The thoughtfulness of his expression made him look so serene and beautiful that this time, Ciel was the one to stare, suddenly forgetting a human language.

"I'm not sure anything could make your soul less desirable to me," Sebastian replied at last. His touch was surprisingly gentle when he helped Ciel to climb into his bed. "I worked hard on it. And I will consume it no matter what transformations it undergoes because it's mine."

That was comforting to know, so Ciel relaxed, giving into the haze that kept blanketing his mind. The sensations were changing every minute, alternating between bright and dim, calming and sobering.

"So how will you do it?" he slurred. His head felt pleasantly light, his body buzzing in a strange, soft way, anticipating sleep.

"How will I do what?" Sebastian took his eye-patch off carefully, and Ciel hummed, leaning into his touch.

"How will you take my soul?" he wondered. "How does this happen?"

The room was dark, but he still saw Sebastian's teeth flash in a grin. Then strong hands pushed him onto the pillow, dragging the blanket up to cover him.

"It's too early for you to be thinking about that," Sebastian told him. Ciel let out a protesting noise, catching his hand before it slipped away.

"I want to know," he insisted. "How do demons take souls?"

For a while, there was silence. Red eyes stared at him with detached curiosity and something else, something darker — something that looked like a mix of hunger and anticipation.

The seconds went by with no answer, and Ciel was starting to think he wouldn't get it when Sebastian suddenly knelt near his bed. His gloved fingers brushed the hair from Ciel's forehead, sliding towards his ear and then his lips, stopping there. The touch lingered, cool and hot simultaneously, before shifting in a soft caress.

Some undefined sensation swirled in his stomach. Ciel trembled, his breath stuttering.

"Through a kiss," Sebastian murmured. Their gazes held, and the sensation got stronger, lighting the fire that rapidly spread to every part of Ciel it could reach.

But the next moment, the touch disappeared. Sebastian stood up, gave him a small closed smile, and with a perfunctory bow, he walked out of the room.

Ciel stared after him, wide-eyed and flushed in a way he didn't understand.

His lips were burning.

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The first thing Ciel thought of upon waking up was that he had a terrible headache.

The second thing he thought of was that Sebastian was wrong. Despite his embarrassing state yesterday, despite the drinking and the uncontrollable babbling, his memories stayed clear. He remembered everything.

Slowly, Ciel pushed himself up on his elbows, wincing when the movement made his head scream in pain. But at the moment, the discomfort didn't mean anything — not in comparison with the implications of what he'd said and heard.

Pulling the blanket higher, Ciel closed his eyes and dropped back onto the pillow, summoning every word he'd blurted to Sebastian and vice versa to memory.

He'd revealed the truth about his non-healing scar. It was humiliating and it meant that he couldn't do something like this again because Sebastian was going to watch out for it from now on. Using his inexperience with alcohol and the certainty that his memory would be corrupted just to embarrass him was a low blow, but what else could he expect from a demon?

And in the end, it didn't even bring the anger Ciel had expected. Because he'd gained far more than he'd lost.

Fact one, he knew about Annesley and his attempts to make a deal with demons. He knew the reasons for Sebastian's intense dislike of him.

Fact two, Sebastian had rarely been this open and genuine before. Ciel's condition had broken down some of his own barriers, leading to confessions Ciel was certain he would have never gotten otherwise.

Sebastian was truly puzzled by him. Furthermore, he admitted that no matter how many missteps Ciel made, it wouldn't affect the quality of his soul in the long run — Sebastian would still consume it in the end. Even more importantly, Sebastian confirmed that he was special. That he wasn't like the others he'd made contracts with before.

But for you? For you, I believe I would fight to the death.

Bone-deep, profound happiness unfurled in him, leaving warmth-filled marks at whichever places it touched. Unable to push back a silly grin, Ciel curled into a ball, hoping to fold himself around this knowledge to make sure that no one could take it from him.

Fact three… Sebastian had been convinced that Ciel wouldn't remember anything. It meant that Ciel had an advantage on his hands — he didn't know how to use it yet, but he would find out. It was only a matter of time.

To top it all, he now knew about the camera. Another thing he could use against Sebastian to secure a final victory. All he had to do was locate and purchase it.

There was also fact four — apparently, at some point in the future, Sebastian was going to kiss him. But this wasn't something Ciel was going to think about. Not now, maybe not ever.

The door opened. Sebastian entered the room, walking towards the curtains and mercilessly letting the morning sun in. Ciel quickly shut his eyes again, and with a protesting groan, he hid his face in the pillow.

"Too bright," he complained.

"Perhaps you shouldn't have drunk things not suitable for a human your age," Sebastian said dispassionately. Ciel wanted to look at him, to see what his face would reveal, but since Sebastian was bathed in sunlight, this wasn't an option.

"Do you remember what you did at the party?" Sebastian wondered. To others, he might have sounded idle, but Ciel understood the nuances of his voice enough to recognise a note of tension there.

Sebastian was concerned. Interesting. He must have regretted his impulse to talk this much, and now he wanted to make sure that Ciel indeed remembered nothing.

Covering his mouth to hide another grin, Ciel cleared his throat.

"I do," he said, putting an appropriate amount of misery into his words. "But the details are vague. I was talking to Baron Annesley and… I'm not sure what happened next."

Even with his back, he could tell that Sebastian relaxed. He sounded far more pleased when he spoke again.

"Did you find out what you needed? If you had told me what you wanted with Baron Annesley, the evening could have gone differently."

This wiped the smile right off Ciel's face.

Had Sebastian heard about the camera? When had he come back? It was easy to remember the talks, but not the time. If he knew…

If he knew, then it didn't change anything. Ciel would still acquire that camera, and he would take a picture. He'd just have to be discreet about it.

Forcing himself to relax again, he finally turned to Sebastian, armed with fake confusion and grumpiness.

He had a long game ahead.

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The next several days flew by in a hectic blur. Sebastian faded into a background presence as Ciel focused on the camera. He had no intention of letting it be auctioned — he needed to get it before anyone learned of his interest or somehow managed to surpass the amount of money he was willing to offer. So he exchanged letters, threatened, blackmailed, and used every possible connection he had before finally receiving the answer he wanted.

The camera was his, provided that he paid a small fortune for it. The price was outrageous, not to mention that there wasn't any guarantee that the camera itself would really work. But money meant little when he would be dead in less than a decade, so Ciel didn't hesitate. And how he had to wait for it to be delivered, even though everything in him quivered from impatience.

He tried to spend his time by harassing Sebastian — now that Pluto lived with them, coming up with the most ridiculous tasks was easy. But there were no new cases, no things requiring his immediate attention, and so Ciel's mind wandered into forbidden territories.

Through a kiss.

The thought made him feel hot and cold, and by the end of the fifth day, he was frustrated to the point of throwing random tantrums just to distract himself.

Who wanted to kiss a demon? No, who wanted to be kissed at all? He got cheek kisses from Elisabeth and Madam Red. They were sloppy and unpleasant. To imagine something like this landing on his lips…

Ciel shuddered at the idea, quickly banishing it from his mind.

Demons weren't even human. A kiss from someone like Sebastian would be—

Something fluttered in him, brushing across his insides and leaving a hot, tickling trail behind. Ciel rubbed his stomach with a scowl, confused and even more irritated.

Why this reaction? Why did it never fail to come when Sebastian was involved? Kissing was a disgusting practice, and there was no way Ciel could ever even consider it. Sebastian had fangs! Fangs that were sharp enough to cut him upon the slightest touch! To let something like this near his lips? To anticipate it? Never.

But the moment he tried to imagine it, all rationality fled. When Ciel discovered that he'd been sitting at his table daydreaming for over twenty minutes, pressing his fingertips to his lips absent-mindedly, he jumped to his feet in a wild, blushing panic.

This was intolerable. Why had he asked that cursed question? Why had Sebastian replied to it? Why did demons have to kiss people in the first place? What, had Sebastian kissed a hundred-year-old pharaoh, or whomever did those stupid heroic stories of his feature?

Ciel tried to imagine it. Then he felt unexplainably angry at the image his mind had conjured, so he threw it out and growled.

What was wrong with him? He needed help, urgently. Maybe a case, something, anything to distract him from—

His eyes fell on the pile of fresh letters on his table before widening.

There was one with a royal sigil on it. A letter from the Queen. He had a case!

Pathetically relieved, Ciel lurched forward and grabbed it, already feeling a cool calmness seep into his mind.

Work was good. Work was familiar. Work was…

The calmness shattered as soon as he realised what he was reading, giving way to a storm of shock and conflicted confusion.

Annesley was dead. Annesley had been murdered in a way labelled as "highly suspicious", which could be a euphemism for "likely supernatural."

Ciel had a solid idea as to what might have killed him.

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The crime scene was kept private. Randall and the same funny red-haired detective Ciel had met during Madam Red's case were the only relevant parties present, and it didn't look like either of them was pleased to see him.

"You?" Randall growled. "You are the person we were ordered to wait for?"

"Were you hoping to be assigned another superior?" Ciel quirked his lips in a smile. "Someone with whom you wouldn't be feeling so incompetent in comparison? If so, you might want to start working in another district because this one is mine."

Randall glowered at him. Another detective — was his name Abberline? — stared at him with his mouth agape.

"That scene is too gruesome for a child like you to witness!" he protested. "Surely there was a misunderstanding!"

His words sounded genuinely affronted, not malicious, so Ciel just rolled his eyes and stepped inside the house. Sebastian followed him wordlessly, and from how quietly he was behaving, Ciel's suspicions only grew stronger.

This couldn't be a coincidence. For Annesley to die less than a week after what Sebastian had revealed? There were only two options Ciel was willing to believe. Either some random demon had killed him, frustrated from his endless summons… or Sebastian had done it out of the petty grudge he was holding. And if it was the latter, it was one of the most rebellious things he'd ever done because Ciel would be the first suspect in people's mind. He would be lucky if the Queen dismissed these rumours, but this was unlikely, and the idea of having his reputation tarnished because of his own servant made his blood boil.

Trying to keep himself calm, Ciel went in the direction of the smell, trying to ignore the presence behind him.

Technically, he would be unable to determine whether Sebastian or another demon had killed Annesley... But for some reason, a part of him was absolutely certain that he would succeed. That he'd be able to recognise Sebastian's work right away.

Annesley was lying on the floor of his bedroom. At least Ciel assumed this was Annesley since his head was missing — the body was in his house, it was supposedly wearing his clothes, and even the ridiculous boots with feathers were the same.

His heart jumped erratically, preparing him for the sea of blood, the inevitable reminder of the time he didn't want to think about, but barely a moment later, his mind caught up with the reality.

There was no blood in sight. Not even a drop.

Disbelieving, Ciel approached carefully, walking around the body and examining it from all sides.

A severed head, but an entirely clean floor and clothes. Annesley couldn't have been killed here. At the same time, who would bother dragging him to some other place and why?

A demon who knew his Master disliked blood?

A powerful jolt went through his heart, making him twitch. Narrowing his eyes, Ciel knelt next to the body, studying the torn neck.

It didn't look like the head had been cut off. It was torn off, leaving uneven and broken tissue behind. But even the slice didn't look bloody, like someone had gone to significant trouble to let everything dry before it was seen.

Sebastian still didn't move, talk, or breathe. Such obedience was as damning as the calculated removal of blood from the crime scene.

But if Sebastian had murdered Annesley, he wouldn't have done it quickly, would he? Just tearing the head off wouldn't be enough. If he was bothered by Annesley's attempts to make a deal to the extent of coming to kill him, he would take his time and enjoy himself. So, there had to be some marks of torture.

With a deep breath, Ciel reached for the corpse's shirt and began to unbutton it. The moment he saw the mutilated skin, he exhaled, and a weird cluster of fury and satisfaction weaved itself in his chest, sending contradictory impulses of jumping up to yell and remaining seated to enjoy the moment into his brain.

This was Sebastian. This was Sebastian in absolutely every aspect.

From the first glance, it looked like someone had turned Annesley's chest into a composition with random patterns. There were dots of different sizes, twisted half-moons, and deep triangles edged into his skin. It could appear senseless, but Ciel instinctively knew what each spot meant because he'd already seen them all. He recognised them intimately.

The tiny circle that widened the deeper it went into Annesley's body was from the heel of Sebastian's shoe. The cluster of four dots that kept being repeated over and over was from the forks Sebastian held strange affection for. The little half-moons that expanded downwards came from those knives he kept hidden in every pocket; the smaller and sharper ones were the result of his claws.

Sebastian had taken his time torturing this man. Sure, maybe all demons had the same claws and heels; maybe they all were obsessed with forks and knives, but in any case, these marks were left by Sebastian — Ciel could bet his life on it. And no matter why this was done, even if for his own protection, this was insubordination he couldn't, and wouldn't, tolerate.

Pursing his lips, he stood up, whirling around just in time to see a subtle smile playing on Sebastian's lips.

He was enjoying this farce of an investigation. Of course he was. Did he think Ciel would never figure this out? Then again, Sebastian didn't know he remembered their conversation about Annesley, so perhaps this was a sound assumption.

"Are you finished, my lord?" Sebastian wondered lightly. There was a tiny trace of mischievousness in his voice, and Ciel couldn't wait to shatter it to pieces.

"I am," he promised, crossing the distance between them unhurriedly. Sebastian watched his approach with unmasked curiosity.

"So soon?"

"Oh, this case is extremely simple," Ciel assured him. Only one step separated them now — within this proximity, he could see how the usual reddish colours of Sebastian's eyes turned more orange, betraying his lighter mood. "Would you like to hear my conclusions?"

Sebastian hesitated for just a second. He must have caught on something unusual about Ciel's demeanour, but the uncertainty was gone as soon as it appeared.

"If you would like to share them," he drawled. Ciel smiled at him. Then he closed his fist around Sebastian's shirt, jerking him down with all the force he possessed, bringing their faces to the same level.

"I know you killed him," he whispered. The distance between them was practically non-existent, so he could feel Sebastian's startled intake of breath with his lips. "I could recognise the way you kill and the weapons you use anywhere. If this was someone other than Annesley, I would let it go. But you set me up."

Shock that froze on Sebastian's face was almost genuine. And maybe it was, but whether he was careless or brainless made no difference right now.

"People saw me talking to Annesley," Ciel hissed. "I never talked to him before. People saw that he was shaken after our conversation. I am known for eliminating scum like him. What do you think they are going to believe now that he died shortly afterwards in such a unique way? Whom do you think Randall and even the Queen will suspect? For whatever reason you killed him, you. Set. Me. Up. And this is not something I'm willing to forget."

Sebastian was silent. He didn't try to pull away — on the contrary, he looked transfixed, and his gaze kept shifting from Ciel's eyes to his lips and back to his eyes again, as if he was attempting to absorb as much of his face as he could.

Ciel released him abruptly, taking a step back and watching him with a narrowed stare.

"This was a warning," he said coldly. "If you ever do something like this again, I'm going to reconsider our contract."

Sebastian's expression changed again, but Ciel turned away prior to deciphering any specific emotion on it.

All in all, he was satisfied. He would feed Randall and others some tale about getting rid of the murderer; he would let people speculate, and he would pay closer attention to Sebastian's movements.

He would also get his camera and receive the answers he wanted. Sebastian would be brought down. Hopefully, this would be the end to all the confusion.

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In the next two days, Ciel composed a fake report on his work, sent a taunting note to Randall out of boredom, and started brainstorming the ways to take a picture of Sebastian once the camera was delivered. He had to have at least several different plans in store because there was a very strong possibility that Sebastian would learn the truth and take actions to prevent it from being discovered.

On the other hand, it didn't look like Sebastian was aware of much. While Ciel was vibrating with bubbling energy, Sebastian was brooding — or daydreaming, it was difficult to say. Even when he was physically present, his mind was clearly floating somewhere far away. Whenever they were in the same room, he kept staring, yet Ciel couldn't read anything but a strange, vacant intensity there.

If the situation was different, Ciel would poke until he got a reaction. But in his current excitement, he wasn't particularly interested in what Sebastian had chosen to obsess over. It didn't matter whether he was thinking about the murder, musing over Ciel's threat, or fantasising about the ways of killing him — soon enough, Ciel would learn a more relevant secret. So far, he'd developed three possible strategies.

Plan #1, he'd ask his other servants to do the job. They were clumsy and loud, which was a huge drawback, but there were three of them — it had to count for something.

Plan #2, he'd hire someone to pretend to be a reporter. This person would take a picture of Sebastian under some made-up excuse.

Plan # 3 was too potentially destructive, so Ciel left it as an extreme measure that would be used only if all other methods failed.

Applying the first two options simultaneously would be ideal.

Now, he just needed to be patient.

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He woke up that night with a feeling that someone was in his room. By the time his mind caught up, the feeling was gone, so with a grumble, Ciel turned onto his other side. He was about to close his eyes when something on the bedside table drew his attention. Squinting, he crawled closer.

It was a small figurine of a black sheep with white curly horns. This didn't belong to him — Ciel had never seen it before. And it had definitely not been there when he went to sleep.

Only one person could have left it. A person who wasn't even a person.

Intrigued, Ciel touched the figurine carefully. When nothing happened, he pulled it up and brought it closer, studying it and trying to understand what it meant.

Was this a gift? An apology? But it was impossible to imagine Sebastian genuinely feeling sorry about anything.

Maybe this was a threat. But what could it mean? The sheep was black and horned, so it obviously represented Sebastian. Did animals of this colouring even exist? Or was it a representation of demonic nature?

Perhaps this was Sebastian's true form. Perhaps under all the disguises, he actually turned into a sheep.

A small giggle escaped his throat, and Ciel pressed his fist against his mouth, delighted by the idea.

He fell asleep holding the sheep, still unable to stop smiling.

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The camera arrived the next day. It was uncomfortably big, brown, and with a flashy golden diaphragm. Ciel knew how to use it by heart at this point — he wasn't worried about putting his theoretical knowledge to practice. But to explain everything to Bard, Finnie, and Mey-Rin, and to make sure they remained unnoticed… this was practically impossible, so worry started to boil in his stomach, gradually filling it with unpleasant heat.

"There is a job I want you three to do," Ciel said laconically. He waited for the excited yelps to quieten down before raising the camera and putting it onto the table.

"This is one of the items that Talbot is said to have created," he explained. "A camera with an interesting history. I heard that this long-lost item had suddenly come up at the auction, and I went to quite some trouble to acquire it."

Tanaka suddenly straightened, curiosity flaring in his eyes.

"William Henry Fox Talbot," he confirmed gravely, his voice hoarse from disuse. "He was an English scientist and one of the inventors of photographic technology."

Ciel fell silent, surprised and relieved to listen to the story he already knew.

So this was true. Even Tanaka knew about the unique properties of this camera. Somehow, this made everything all the more real, and Ciel barely managed to push down a new wave of eager anticipation.

As soon as Tanaka stopped speaking, he aimed the camera at Finnie and took a picture. His heart was slowly gaining a faster and faster pace, until its wild pounding was the only thing Ciel could hear. His chest was on fire, and it stopped burning only after he saw a little dead bird frozen in a happy flight right next to Finnie's head.

It was working. His camera was working.

He could actually use it on Sebastian.

Ciel's lips parted in a maniacal grin. Tanaka stared at him in concern, but right now, it didn't faze him.

Just a few more hours. A few more hours and he would know who Sebastian cared about most. Surely even someone as unprofessional as his servants would be able to stop him for ten seconds and take a picture?

Ciel only had to calm himself enough to survive the waiting period.

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"To learn wh-who is the one that Sebastian cares most for?" Mey-Rin had sounded torn between anxiety and exhilaration.

"I'd kind of like to know," Finnie had murmured thoughtfully.

"He's human, too! He must have a weak point or two!" Bard had exclaimed passionately.

They had all been genuinely excited about their task. And yet none of them succeeded.

Ciel considered himself a good strategist. He had memorised Sebastian's schedule, he had come up with many different ways of catching him off guard, and he shared them all with his servants, going as far as demonstrating how everything had to happen on the black sheep, his old toy soldiers, and the miniature model of the manor he'd been gifted years ago. However, everything ended with a failure.

At first, Bard, Finnie, and Mey-Rin were so fascinated by Sebastian cleaning that they forgot to take a picture. Then they fell out of the wardrobe as soon as he entered. Then Finnie crashed into the wall instead of knocking Sebastian down and making him stop.

After this latest disaster, Ciel could only hope to use himself as the bait, so he untied his tie and leaned against his chair before calling Sebastian in. Bard, Finnie, and Mey-Rin balanced somewhere outside, right across the window, and if they failed again…

The knock on the door announced Sebastian's presence.

"Was there something you wanted?" he asked. Impatience shone through his forced politeness — he must be feeling frustrated with the servants' meddling today. Did he suspect anything? Did he realise that Bard, Finnie, and Mey-Rin were following Ciel's orders, or did he assume they were simply being their usual unhinged selves?

"It came undone," Ciel replied shortly. At Sebastian's bewildered expression, he tilted his head, demonstrating the side of his neck and the loosened tie around it.

For a moment, there was silence. It was soaked in stupor and incomprehension, but then Sebastian remembered himself, clearing his throat quietly.

"Of course," he said. He approached and knelt before him, reaching for the tie.

Maybe his movements were gentler or his gaze was more piercing, but somehow, this seemed more intimate than their usual dressing rituals. Ciel raised his head higher, looking away and counting the seconds silently.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Sev…

Sebastian's head snapped towards the window, as if he'd heard something. Without saying a word, he straightened, walking to it and casually opening it before peering outside.

Ciel's heart dropped to his feet. He barely forced himself to keep sitting as he was instead of shrinking away and trying to meld with his chair.

No. No, no, no. How did Sebastian know? Had those idiots started talking? Ciel had specifically warned them about keeping their mouths shut. He still didn't know for certain how good demonic hearing was, but Sebastian would easily hear voices just outside the window.

Or maybe he reacted to the click of the camera? Then at least they'd still have the photo, even if their operation was discovered.

But Sebastian didn't say anything. He looked from side to side before facing Ciel again.

"Let's let some air in. Shall we?" he inquired. His voice was a purr, and just like that, Ciel's lungs constricted in an embarrassed panic.

Sebastian knew. If he hadn't figured it out before, now he had a clear idea that something was happening. Sooner or later, he would realise what the camera was and what Ciel was trying to do, so he'd start fighting back.

It meant that the reporter that was supposed to arrive later today would leave with nothing. Ciel had paid him handsomely and promised another fortune if he took the photo, but Sebastian knowing what to look out for complicated things. His chances at succeeding were minimal.

"I'm cold," Ciel growled. "We talked about you showing initiative when it's not needed, didn't we? Do you need another reminder?"

Sebastian stared at him with such an openly affectionate smile that Ciel almost recoiled.

This wasn't like Sebastian. First the gift, now this— this strange look in response to a criticism… It was warm, open, practically besotted, and Ciel had never felt more confused in his life.

"Not at all, my lord," Sebastian murmured. He closed the window and bowed, managing to look half-sincere. "With your permission, I'll have my leave. There is a special dessert I'm preparing — I should check on it."

"All right," Ciel said slowly. "Do you remember about our guest?"

"The reporter?" a new glint brightened Sebastian's eyes. "The one who is going to interview Tanaka because he refuses to believe that a mere child could run a successful company?"

"Exactly," Ciel kept his face straight, though his nose twitched with the need to snort.

"It's unlike you to grant interviews to people with such a narrow mind-set. Are you sure this man is the best choice?"

"My reasons are my own. You were going to take your leave, weren't you?"

Sebastian bowed his head at the dismissal.

"I assure you, everything will go smoothly," he promised. His challenging smirk promised something else entirely.

Ciel really hoped that his idiotic allies had managed to snap that picture.

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As soon as the door behind Sebastian closed, he began to wait. And wait. And wait. Gradually, his hopefulness grew into concern and then exasperation, and he knocked down the useless soldiers surrounding the black sheep impulsively, frustrated beyond belief.

Thirty five minutes after their last attempt and yet no one had entered his office. They should have at least let him know if they failed! Did he have to do everything by himself?

When the knock finally came, Ciel jolted in his seat.

"Come in!" he exclaimed. His eagerness plummeted down when he saw Sebastian with the tray.

On any other day, he'd be salivating at the opportunity to taste new desserts, but right now, he would gladly stomp on them in his disappointment.

"Why are there so many plates?" he grumbled. "Do you want my stomach to split from all this sugar?"

"That has never stopped you before," Sebastian remarked. "Besides, this day must be disappointing for you, so I thought you'd need something to cheer you up."

"Why would it be disappointing?" Ciel's eyes narrowed suspiciously. An unpleasant sensation pulled at his insides when he imagined all the possibilities.

What if Sebastian wasn't just going to avoid stopping anywhere for ten seconds? What if he actively sabotaged their attempts and interfered with the photographs? Bard, Finnie, and Mey-Rin wouldn't be prepared for that — and what could they do against the demon anyway?

"Because of that disrespectful reporter," Sebastian said innocently, putting a large tray on the table. "You must be concerned about Tanaka saying the right things. Don't worry — like I said, I'll make sure the interview goes well."

Ciel shrugged vaguely, looking at the plates with disinterest. What on earth was taking those fools so long? He'd shown them how to work with the photographs. Did they forget it and were now too embarrassed to come to him?

"Is something the matter?" Sebastian wondered. He'd already placed two plates before him, and they did look appetizing. The first dessert was made of waffles and melted chocolate; the second one was dripping with honey, and Ciel's stomach rumbled at the sight.

At least one part of him didn't care about the pictures.

"It's nothing," he said hastily. "I will take dinner in here today as well."

"As you wish," Sebastian agreed. His eyes lingered on something on Ciel's table, with a private smirk touching his lips.

He was probably staring at the toy display. The knocked down soldiers, the victorious black sheep standing in the middle… Sebastian was either feeling triumphant or he was pleased with Ciel using his gift — or his threat, whatever it was. Maybe both.

Ciel should have hidden his re-enactment of the battlefield before Sebastian saw it, but on the other hand, who cared? Sebastian already knew the truth.

Now it was all about who would win in this unacknowledged war.

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Twenty minutes later, Bard, Finnie, and Mey-Rin ran inside in varying states of distress. Each held a photograph in their hands, and as expected, all of these photographs were blurry.

Ciel had been prepared for disappointment, but it still hit him hard. He closed his eyes, trying to swallow back the biting words.

He knew they wouldn't be a match for Sebastian. He couldn't take his frustration out on them for failing. They weren't particularly bright — based on Mey-Rin's rambling admiration, they'd watched Sebastian fly from one corner of the room to another and yet they still thought he's just a very efficient butler. People like this could be his soldiers when it came to normal enemies, not to demons.

But he still needed that picture. And something told him that the reporter wouldn't be of much use.

When Lau offered help, Ciel was desperate enough to accept it.

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"Why did you come here if you knew nothing of my plan?" Ciel groused. Lau was busy gesturing to Ran-Mao, indicating where she should move. Ciel had no idea how her sitting on the stair railing would help to stop Sebastian for ten seconds, but he didn't have much to lose at this point, so he might just as well try Lau's option.

"How could I not?" Lau countered. His eyes were closed the entire time, so how he knew what Ran-Mao was doing was beyond Ciel's comprehension. "I've received the most invigorating news. A certain camera is no longer a part of the auction you and I discussed."

"We discussed no such thing."

Lau shrugged, unconcerned.

"We did through an infamous baron — he's dead now, isn't he? — and if you were going to use that camera, I wanted to be present."

"Why?"

Lau's face split in a smile so wide that Ciel shivered, instinctively wary. Something about this man made him unnerved in the way he didn't understand.

"Curiosity brings me life as much as it'll bring me death," Lau drawled. Ciel opened his mouth to clarify, but Sebastian's greeting voice reached him in that very second. Tensing, he hid behind the column, sending a warning glare to Bard, Finnie, and Mey-Rin.

This time, they'd better not let him down.

Sebastian and the reporter passed them, going up the stairs slowly. Ciel noticed the exact moment the reporter saw Ran-Mao: he did a double-take, and his jaw dropped open in shock. He froze right where he was standing; Sebastian, on the other hand, continued walking.

"He's not stopping!" Ciel hissed angrily. Whatever Lau had planned, he'd better start doing it—

Oh. Oh.

Ran-Mao spread her legs briefly before crossing them again. The reporter let out an embarrassing sound, and Ciel felt redness creeping into his cheeks.

"That was your big plan?" he whispered indignantly.

"How strange," Lau mumbled, stunned. "I thought that would definitely make the butler stop and look for a second."

If they weren't technically hiding, Ciel would have yelled at him for wasting his time and humiliating him in front of the reporter, fake as he was. But even though Sebastian had to know they were here, it wouldn't count as long as they stayed hidden. These were the unspoken rules of their unofficial war.

"I've been a fool to believe that you can handle something like this," Ciel spat. He refused to look at Ran-Mao and her indecent display again — the mere thought of it was distasteful.

"It's too early to give up yet," Lau disagreed. He proceeded to make some complex movements with his hands, probably for Bard, Finnie, and Mey-Rin who were hiding closer to the stairs on the other side.

Ciel wasn't interested in what they were doing. His gaze searched for Sebastian, and when it landed on him, he froze.

Sebastian was standing still. Yes, he was far away from Bard, who had the camera, but he was standing, so they could at least try to—

Ignoring the possibility of seeing yet another scarring performance, Ciel turned to Bard hopefully, but this hope turned into fury in less than a second.

Bard's face was flushed, his eyes glassy and focused on Ran-Mao alone. It seemed every idiot man found her posturing fascinating — even Finnie tried to raise his head higher to get a better view. What was wrong with them all?

As if hearing his mental cursing, Bard started and tried to focus the camera in the right direction. But it was too late.

Lau's plan had worked on everyone except their actual target.

"Mr. Jones?" Sebastian called. He sounded so uninspired and pitying that Ciel would have gladly related to it if he didn't know that a part of this tone was for him. Apparently, Sebastian couldn't believe he would stoop to such a humiliating tactic.

He wasn't the only one.

They resumed their walking, and Ciel pressed his hand to his temple, shaking his head slowly.

"What a spectacular waste of time," he breathed out. Mey-Rin, Finnie, and Bard ran up to them, familiar guilty expressions decorating their equally red faces.

"How could that be?" Lau continued to murmur. "There isn't a single man I know who would be immune to Ran-Mao's charms."

"These were no charms," Ciel snarled, but Lau just waved his head dismissively.

"For someone your age, maybe. But a seasoned man like Sebastian is supposed to—"

How could he be working with someone this stupid? Fools, all of them!

"Sebastian isn't interested in women!" Ciel yelled. Deep silence met his explosion. Then Finnie began to stammer, Bard gaped, and Mey-Rin let out a piercing shriek.

"Oh no!" she cried out. "So that's why, that's why— I knew there must be something!"

Lau opened his eyes, staring at him openly, and this was so shocking that Ciel jerked in surprise.

When the implications of what he'd just said finally reached him, he wanted to crawl into some hole and die there.

"Not like that!" he exclaimed, completely mortified. Could this terrible day get any worse? "I just meant, he's not interested in people. He wouldn't want to… he's not like you! Not like us, I mean!"

Lau kept scrutinising him with his unnerving stare. He servants were also gawking, and Ciel huffed, jerking his chin up proudly.

He was a Phantomhive, he didn't have to make excuses, not even when they were due.

"In fifteen minutes, knock on the greeting room's door and pass the camera to the reporter," he ordered stiffly. "You're useless, so maybe he'll succeed where you failed. And don't disturb me! I need to think."

Without waiting for acknowledgement, he turned his back on this bunch of morons and headed towards his office.

As always, he could only depend on himself.

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With an addition of Lau and with his own decision to take on a more active role, Ciel put two more soldiers on the table, situating them around the sheep.

"To stop him for ten seconds," he murmured thoughtfully. Just ten seconds — how difficult could that be? But since all his plans failed…

Oh, well. Let Sebastian hear it. Let him know what's about to happen — he still wouldn't be able to hide from the camera.

"This was the last thing I wanted to resort to," Ciel said aloud, putting several forlorn notes into his voice. "But he left me with no options. I suppose I'll have to die to get what I want."

He hoped this made Sebastian stumble, whatever he was currently doing.

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To begin with, Ciel spoke with Finnie. He patiently waited for protests and pleadings to fade before repeating what he'd said, using the tone he knew Finnie wouldn't risk arguing with. He talked to Lau and his remaining servants next, outlining each separate task they were responsible for.

He would stop Sebastian by himself. It would be late in the evening by then, so Lau would be responsible for the lighting. He might have no understanding of Sebastian, but he was creative enough to pull a task like this off. Bard and Mey-Rin would be taking the picture, and if any of them failed again, being fired would be the least of their worries.

With all the threats issued, Ciel stretched in his chair, a pleased smirk finding its way on his lips. The day hadn't been good so far, but this was about to change. He wouldn't let all his efforts be in vain.

A short knock interrupted his musings. Sebastian entered with a new tray, giving him an inscrutable look.

"I apologise for my tardiness," he uttered. "It appears that our servants have been given an independent task, so instead of following my orders, they've been busy elsewhere. Because of that, your dinner hasn't been prepared and it's still quite early for supper. I've brought you a small snack instead."

Ciel furrowed his brows warily. Something about this sounded ominous.

"Today I'm serving the Demon Hound bean cakes," Sebastian announced, placing a plate with dry-looking, paw-shaped pastries before him. "Manufactured by Houndsworth at the time of our trip."

What?

His frown deepening, Ciel pierced one of the cakes with his fork, studying it suspiciously. It looked as unappetising up close as it did on the plate.

"Why are you serving me rubbish like this?" he wondered darkly, gingerly tasting the cake. To his surprise, it wasn't as terrible as he'd expected.

"Bard and the others seem to have bought an insane quantity of it," Sebastian explained. His pseudo-authentic innocence was an instant give-away of something more complex pushing him to present this ready-made snack.

Was it meant to be an insult? A reminder of his implications that Ciel was a dog deserving cheap treats?

His grip on the fork tightened at the thought. With an effort, he swallowed the surge of acid in his mouth and forced himself to take another pastry.

"How did the interview go?" he asked neutrally. He knew the answer already — if the half-witted reporter had succeeded, he would have already come running.

"I only wish that you could have been there," Sebastian said wistfully. If Ciel didn't know him this well, he might have believed that Sebastian genuinely missed his presence. As if. "Tanaka showed formidable strengths as a president."

"That's good," Ciel smiled. "A distinguished old man makes a suitable face for the company."

Sebastian hummed, looking extremely pleased with himself.

"Indeed. There was a photograph taken at the end as well."

His breathing tumbled into a startled gasp. Ciel jerked before he could stop himself — he managed to stop the incredulous shock from plastering itself across his face only at the last moment.

"A photograph?" he repeated cautiously. Hope tried to peck its way into his heart, but he shook it off, steeling himself.

"Yes. It seems that having a photographic portrait taken is in fashion these days."

"I see," Ciel tried to focus on the pastries again. A faint sensation of nausea washed over his stomach — whether from eating the fourth dessert in the last couple of hours or from disappointment, he couldn't tell.

If the photograph existed, he could bet it was of Tanaka alone. Sebastian would have murdered the reporter before he allowed him to take a picture of himself.

"Young Master, how about having one taken as well?" Sebastian offered. The pleasant silkiness of his voice was soothing, but the suggestion itself instantly had Ciel on edge.

No. No, this could never happen. He'd rather break the camera than direct it at himself.

"Nonsense," he half-snorted. He hoped dearly that Sebastian couldn't see the light tremor in his hands. Why would he ask that? What if he decided to announce the war, too, instead of simply defending himself?

This changed his approach somewhat. Ciel would have to keep a particularly close watch over the camera.

A quiet, subdued laughter filled his ears with its insistent ringing. Turning over his shoulder, he sent Sebastian a glare.

"Something funny?" he growled. Sebastian shut up immediately, looking caught off guard. The surprise in his widened eyes was sincere, and Ciel huffed incredulously.

"Do you think I'm deaf?" he questioned. "If you want to laugh at anything, do it outside! And prepare me something else to eat — you can't possibly expect me to munch on sweets alone all day long."

Sebastian tilted his head, still watching him oddly. An even stranger look crossed his face, and then his throat moved.

"I would think that is what you dream of."

"What, of vomiting all night?" Ciel scowled. "Keep your strange ideas restrained."

Further widening of eyes was the only response he got. A moment later, Sebastian collected the tray and finally walked to the door, and Ciel began to pretend to sort through his latest letters.

Sebastian was certainly acting strange, and he was almost convinced that it wasn't only about Talbot's camera.

But it was irrelevant.

For now.

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The moon was already glowing softly by the time Ciel walked out of the manor. Everyone was in their positions — thankfully, hidden from view. Finnie was the only one standing nearby, and his eyes looked enormous on his pale face.

"Is this the thing you wanted me to use?" he asked. His voice trembled uncertainly. "I found the headless angel, but there were several of them, so I didn't—"

"This one will do," Ciel interrupted him. His family owned an immeasurable number of old, ugly, and broken statues. He didn't have the heart to get rid of them, so they were kept in one of the storage rooms under the house.

Picking an angel for an object that was supposed to crush him was amusing. Let this headless thing fall from the sky, moving to kill him, just for a demon to save him. It couldn't get any more ironic.

"Remember, on my command," Ciel warned. Measuring the distance between himself, Finnie, and the place he and Lau had agreed on, he walked to the required spot and stopped there.

Sebastian was bound to save him. He had no choice. And when he did, Ciel would make sure he stayed still for those ten wretched seconds.

Turning his back to Finnie, he closed his eyes, a private little smile settling on his lips.

"Do it," he ordered. Then he waited, but there was no shift in the air, nothing to indicate that his command was obeyed.

"Are you sure it's okay?" Finnie asked again. At any other time, the misery in his voice could be touching, but right now, Ciel found it annoying.

"Yes," he said.

"But—"

Being nice didn't work, just like he'd thought. Finnie was too loyal to him to subject him to a risk like this. Tugging at this loyalty was the most efficient method.

"Do it!" Ciel barked loudly. The commanding, biting sharpness of his tone was enough to immediately jerk Finnie into action. He groaned, and then he must have sent the statue flying because Ciel distinctly heard the whistling of the air, felt a strange pressure approaching him from above. It was coming closer and closer, and out of curiosity, he willed himself to feel fear.

But there was nothing. He knew Sebastian would come. There wasn't even a sliver of doubt, just a steely, unyielding confidence.

Someone screamed, but since Sebastian would never do that, Ciel paid it no mind. The pressure from above intensified, the wind started to caress his hair, and his body prepared to sense a familiar presence… but something was wrong. Someone else was approaching him from behind, someone Ciel wanted to instinctively reject. Still, he forced himself not to move, trusting Sebastian to get to him first.

He wasn't disappointed. Just a second later, a comforting darkness covered him, enveloping him from all sides and cushioning him as it moved his body forward, protecting it from the impact. A loud crash made his ears ring, so for a moment, Ciel found himself disoriented.

When his senses returned to him, he registered Sebastian's solid presence behind even without opening his eyes. Somehow, he was lying on the ground, but the fall had been so soft that it left him entirely unscathed.

Another thought hit him, this time far less pleasant.

That scream he'd heard… where did it come from? Could it be that Finnie had saved him, and his mind had simply conjured the darker presence he felt so vividly?

Ciel whipped his head around, suddenly panicked, and his breath caught in his throat.

He was right, it was Sebastian who'd come for him. He was still there, half-crouching on the ground, watching him with grim eyes. But the thing that paralyzed Ciel, that stole his breath and made a hot surge of excitement sweep through him was the wings.

The statue had shattered against Sebastian's back. Everything must have been happening more quickly than Ciel assumed because two white wings still hadn't realised that their existence had ended. They were glued to Sebastian's back, protruding from both sides in two powerful, ethereal shapes, and it was so eerily symbolic that Ciel's heart skipped a beat.

This might not be what he'd seen when they first met, but this was what their meeting meant. If angels existed, they had let Ciel rot in that cell with other children. It was a demon who'd rescued him, and didn't that make him an angel, too?

The wings were fitting. Their whiteness was fitting. Who got to determine what being an angel or a demon meant anyway?

The next moment, the wings cracked and fell apart, piece by little piece. When the last bit collapsed, Ciel moved his eyes to Sebastian's face, and once again, his heart stumbled.

Sebastian was staring at him in a way that was only dimly familiar. It was intense, and desirous, and utterly grave, and Ciel felt helplessly pinned by it.

Unexpectedly, one of Sebastian's hands moved to the back of Ciel's head, gloved fingers slipping under his hair boldly. His other hand coiled around Ciel's waist, and then he was pulling him closer, closer, closer still, plunging Ciel's mind into a roaring chaos. The possibility of being kissed had never felt as real before, and his chest exploded from the confusing burn of longing and terror.

He wanted it, craved it with desperation he didn't recognise. He was mortified by his wishes. He was embarrassed, needy, scared, eager — and he had to move away precisely because of this insistent want to press closer, to learn what kissing was like, to let Sebastian leave the invisible prints that would never fade from his lips.

He couldn't be this irrational. He couldn't be this weak and malleable.

With a force he didn't know he possessed, Ciel turned his head away, staring somewhere with glassy eyes and trying to put himself together.

The bright lights flared around them so suddenly that Ciel gasped from surprise. He wasn't the only one: Sebastian jerked slightly, looking so startled as if he'd just broken out of trance.

The lights. Yes, of course — Lau had to ensure that Bard and Mey-Rin would be able to take a photograph at this time of night. He'd certainly gone overboard — Ciel didn't want to imagine where he'd gotten the giant dragons who kept vomiting the light, but right now, he was ridiculously grateful for them. This short break was just what he needed, especially since Sebastian continued to hold him, his fingers still buried in his hair possessively.

"What a charming picture the two of you make," Lau commented. His voice sounded amused, but it had undertones that Ciel refused to decipher.

"You're late," he accused Sebastian harshly.

"My apologies. I was making preparations for tonight's supper: the main dish is a Rouen-style roast duck."

Ciel's stomach twisted in longing, but since Sebastian continued to hold him — as if this was completely natural, as if they did it all the time — he wasn't certain what had caused this reaction.

"I see," he managed to utter. He tried to blink to free himself from the strange spell he was under, but Sebastian's gaze didn't let him. It was uncharacteristically open: soft, fond, fascinated, and Ciel greedily tried to absorb it all, filling every gap carved by insecurity with it and hoping this would be enough for him to survive another Houndsworth.

"You should have just ordered me to let you take it," Sebastian said, and the words, along with the amusement they hid, hit him like a bucket of cold water. Ciel recoiled.

"What?" he spat. They weren't supposed to acknowledge this! This was supposed to be a war of wits and creativity, not emotions — why was Sebastian breaking the rules now? Not asking him directly was the whole point. Playing around meant turning it into another game; talking about it pushed them into a territory Ciel would never be willing to touch. If he did, he would have to admit why he needed to take this picture so badly and what he was hoping to see on it, and that could never happen.

Sebastian was supposed to enjoy the aspect of challenge. He wasn't supposed to break their unspoken rules, not when Ciel could easily turn the tables on him by actually doing what he'd suggested and ordering him to stand still. Some things were simply not to be discussed — they were to be won, and Sebastian acting like he didn't know that was infuriating.

"Whatever you order me to do, I will do so right away," Sebastian added. He was smiling now, and that smile was so kind and suave that there was no way it was real.

For a moment, Ciel just looked, knowing his own emotions were written plainly on his face yet not bothering to hide them. The desire to ask, to order, was roiling under his skin, imbuing it with a tingle and then a burn.

He wanted to know. He needed it. What if Bard had failed once again? What if Sebastian took his silence as a permission to destroy the photograph? Giving him an order would be so easy…

But easy was never the option. And he would rather keep up the pretence than make himself so openly vulnerable.

The resolution solidified, dropping to the centre of his mind and sending the corresponding signals to the rest of his body. Ciel deflated and looked in the direction where Bard and Mey-Rin were still hiding.

"I don't know what you mean," he stated. It came out petulant, and Sebastian chuckled. Despite everything, the sound rolled over Ciel like a blanket, infusing him with warmth he'd had enough of for today.

"Go finish supper preparations," he said more sharply. "Your assistance is no longer required."

Sebastian dared to release a long-suffering sigh as he got to his feet. Before Ciel knew it, he was lifted off the ground, too, and then Sebastian started fussing over his clothes, trying to clean it. His every touch left a hot trail of sensations behind, so Ciel slapped his hands away, feeling how a flush stained his cheeks.

"Go away already," he huffed. Sebastian bowed. His gaze shifted, stopping at the trees where Bard and Mey-Rin were standing, and an arrogant, satisfied smile emerged on his lips. Then he walked away.

Ciel barely managed to stay still until he disappeared entirely. Then he hurried towards the trees, thinking of the most elaborate curses he would unleash if those idiots had failed to do what they had to again.

"Well?" he demanded.

"We did it!" Bard exclaimed cheerfully. He was beaming with pride, shaking the camera lightly. "It's all in there."

Relief dizzied him momentarily, tearing a soft exhale from his lips. The discomfort and uncertainty from what he'd shared with Sebastian finally faded, and Ciel clasped his hands together.

"Go develop the film," he said. "When you are done, bring the photograph to me. I'll be at my office. No distractions along the way, is that clear?"

They all nodded, included Lau, who chose this moment to approach.

"Why are you nodding?" Ciel narrowed his eyes. "You aren't planning on spending the night here, are you? Your part is done."

"I'm not sure," Lau shrugged despondently. "Am I invited?"

"You are not."

With an amused chortle, Lau turned to Ran-Mao.

"We shall go," he told her. "Earl Phantomhive is undoubtedly going to be busy now… and tomorrow."

"Why would I be busy tomorrow?" Ciel wondered. Lau just flashed him an annoyingly secretive smile without saying anything.

All right. Who cared about his made-up mysteries anyway? There were much more important things on his agenda tonight, such as that cursed photograph.

Hopefully, it would cure these odd disorders that kept twisting every part of his body whenever Sebastian stared at him several seconds too long.

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For whatever reason, despite the lack of invitation, Lau and Ran-Mao followed them into the house. Ciel didn't bother sending them away again — in the end, he just didn't care enough. They helped him today, so he supposed they could use one of the guest bedrooms for the night if they insisted on sticking around.

Bard, Finnie, and Mey-Rin were working on a photograph, and even though they had to be done soon, something heavy settled in Ciel's chest. It could be a premonition, or maybe a sense that he had to prepare himself for disappointment, but the joy that had swirled through him outside evaporated entirely now.

When a sudden crash echoed through the house, Ciel expected it, and yet it still made his heart sink. The remaining slivers of hope shrank away, leaving hollowness and burning disappointment behind.

"Aren't you going to check up on that, Earl?" Lau asked curiously. Ciel didn't reply. A sense of the final defeat wrought itself into his body, slowly weighting it down, and eventually, his shoulders drooped.

Enough was enough. He didn't need to check on the source of the sound to know what had happened: somehow, Sebastian had sabotaged everything yet again.

If he wanted to keep up with appearances of this whole thing being a game, this was where he had to draw the line. Trying again would seem desperate — more desperate than it already was.

Should he give up, then? After all the efforts he'd invested to get his hands on the camera?

"Leave me," Ciel commanded dully. "I need to think and you two are being too loud."

Another chuckle from Lau was all response he got. The door opened and closed, and Ciel finally turned away from the window, slowly walking towards his chair.

Tiredness turned into an iron collar that was stubbornly dragging him down. As soon as he sat down, his eyelids grew heavy, so he shut his eyes, hoping that a brief break would help him to clear his head.

He just had to avoid thinking for a couple of minutes. This hellish day was too long, it was time to distance himself from it. To…

His thoughts slowed.

Then even they disappeared.

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Ciel woke up in his bed. At first, he just kept blinking at the ceiling, trying to identify the source of his confusion. This was his room, so why did he feel like he shouldn't be here? How had he even fallen asleep?

When the memories started slowly making their way into his head, he winced, pushing himself up and looking around. What time was it? Why hadn't Sebastian still—

His eyes fell on the photograph lying on the bedside table, and just like that, all coherent thoughts fled, leaving wild disbelief and chaotic excitement behind.

The photograph. The photograph! It was there! Did that mean that whatever happened yesterday hadn't resulted in its destruction? That his servants had actually managed to—

Ciel lurched forward as every cell of his body flared to life. His hands shook. He nearly fell off the bed before finally getting his hands on picture, and then he was looking, taking in every little detail greedily.

There was him. He was in the photo, right next to Sebastian!

For a blissful second, an utter happiness blossomed inside. It devoured him entirely, lighting even the darkest corners he'd been sure would remain unlit forever. His head felt pleasantly light — if he wanted, he was certain he could fly at this moment, dissolving within the power of his joy.

When the first alarms of awareness began to break through, Ciel almost didn't want to let them in. But their coldness was too persistent, and soon enough, it crushed every positive emotion he had.

This wasn't a photo Bard had taken yesterday. That one was made outside; this one was made inside the house, inside his office. It depicted Pluto somehow crawling outside the window, Ciel sleeping in his chair, and Sebastian standing nearby, looking down at him with a gentle smile.

The merciful confusion didn't last long. Within seconds, Ciel connected the dots, and a clammy fog of horror immediately slid down his body, injecting him with a paralyzing dose of humiliation.

He'd been the one photographed. When he fell asleep yesterday, Sebastian must have entered his office, took the picture, and developed the film. And now he courteously delivered it to him, knowing it would be one of the first things Ciel saw upon waking up.

Sebastian. The thing from another world he treasured most was Sebastian.

It couldn't be true. He'd suspected, but he couldn't truly care about Sebastian more than about his family, could he? He'd spent years with them. They loved him. And he… he loved them. He loved them. He might never speak their names again, he might never call them his parents directly again, but he loved them with all his heart, with all the devotion he was capable of. What did it mean that Sebastian was in the picture and they weren't? What did it say about him?

And Sebastian had seen it, too. He had used his accidental vulnerability and pounced like the bastard he was. Now he had physical evidence of Ciel caring about him, valuing him more than people he'd spent a lifetime with.

No. No, this couldn't be happening to him. What weapon did he even have left now? Everything he said, everything he did would be meaningless because there was the explicit proof betraying his real feelings.

Panic that seized him was expected but still overwhelming. His heart pounded furiously, filling his ears with its roaring as he quickly slid into a mindless state of pure, primitive horror.

There was no air left in the room or in his lungs, but Ciel still desperately tried to inhale it. His chest rebelled, sending a warning through a wave of dizziness, and he automatically reached out for his scar before freezing.

No. This had been taken from him, too, Sebastian knew about it now.

Breathing. He had to concentrate on his breathing. It always helped before.

Closing his eyes, Ciel tried to calm himself, forcefully slamming down wall after wall on his hectic emotions. Deep breaths, three and a half seconds between each. Repeat that again, and again, and again.

Slowly, gradually, his mental defences resumed their work. Nausea was still nesting in his stomach, constricting his movements, but the bursts of panic were squashed successfully.

He had to be strong now. He had to be stronger than ever. He would make Sebastian pay — it didn't matter how, not right now, but he would. It was a matter of time.

But for the next hour, he had to keep himself under control. He had to act like nothing had changed, like he wasn't affected, like he didn't feel almost as humiliated as during his captivity, when—

No. He would be strong. He would be unaffected, whatever it cost him.

Sebastian hadn't come to wake him yet, though he must have known he was up. This was actually an advantage because despite his resolve, Ciel wasn't sure he could stand seeing him right now.

Slowly, he stood up. His legs still felt shaky, but he glared at them until they began to obey.

Good. He would dress himself this morning.

And then he would give the servants something to talk about.

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Tanaka helped him to adjust his bow tie appropriately. He sent him a scrutinizing glance, inviting him to speak, but Ciel pretended that he didn't see it. When Tanaka wasn't looking, he placed the photo on the kitchen table and made his escape.

Bard, Finnie, and Mey-Rin would find it — and they would drive themselves crazy trying to come up with an explanation for it. Without context, they could only guess whether the picture was of him, of Sebastian, or even of Pluto. Ciel would be subjected to their suspicions, but Sebastian would be, too, and that was all he hoped for at this stage. It was minor and petty, but it was all he could do.

The table was already served. Holding his head high, Ciel sat down, keeping his face emotionless even as Sebastian entered the dining room with a vase of white roses.

"Good morning, my lord," he greeted him cheerfully, a fake surprise in his voice. "I wasn't aware you were awake."

"Did your hearing become impaired over night?" Ciel asked, unimpressed. Sebastian's brows rose before furrowing in confusion. He must have expected a stronger reaction and found its absence disappointing. Good.

"Today your breakfast is mushroom omelette with greens and bacon. I also prepared puff pastry with soured cream." Putting on another polite expression, he proceeded to serve him, and Ciel threw himself into acting like he normally would.

He just needed to survive this breakfast. After that, he would be able to lock himself in his office and think, plan, strategize. Just breakfast. Sebastian would likely want to stretch the suspense — he wouldn't start this discussion so soon, would he?

Ciel reached for the pastry, taking a small bite. He chewed, yet the usual delight didn't come — the taste was stale. His mouth worked reluctantly, going through motions, and at the thought of having to eat the entire plate with an omelette, his stomach rebelled.

"I'm honoured," Sebastian said suddenly, leaning close. His words were deceptively tender, but with such a heavy underlying amusement that it mercilessly tore into Ciel's fragile wall of self-control, shattering it to pieces.

"Shut up!" he snarled. He tried to glare, but the embarrassment stiffened his muscles, preventing him from turning fully.

He didn't want to do this now. He wasn't prepared.

Sebastian smiled. He kept smiling as he shifted back, but his gaze told a different story. It was cold, smug, and detached, as if Ciel was merely an intriguing insect.

No respect. No admiration. No genuine warmth. They were gone.

"It's your own fault for falling asleep and leaving yourself defenceless," Sebastian remarked.

The tiny remaining shards of Ciel's patience broke, giving way to fury. It rose in a hot red cloud that quickly burned through all the embarrassment, sending a surge of strength to him.

"You bastard!" he hissed. Sebastian remained unmoved.

"The image reflected in a picture is but an illusion," he said softly. The overbearing condescension in his voice was like a whip itching to deal a mortal blow. "However, even if it is an illusion, wishing to hold onto it is one of the hollow dreams humans have."

Hurt crashed into fury, chasing it away and spilling all over the charred remains it left behind. All Ciel wanted was to curl in on himself, to pretend that this wasn't happening. But he couldn't.

Every word was a barb. A barb aimed to hurt; a barb that split his skin, burrowing itself in his heart, twisting until he wanted to scream.

It'd been years since he was trampled into the ground so thoroughly. Sebastian had not simply taken a picture, he took the first chance to mock and humiliate him for what it depicted.

His phantom doppelganger looked soft. He was smiling widely, looking at Ciel with tender affection. An illusion indeed, unachievable and naïve, and utterly hollow — and oh, Ciel wanted to hold onto it. He wanted to believe it was real, he wanted to see it as something within his reach… the fact that Sebastian would never stop rubbing into his face now.

That was exactly why he'd been so obsessed with that camera. Why he needed to know Sebastian's weakness, even if it turned out not to be him. He hoped for a weapon he could use in an attack similar to this, but he'd been careless and stupid, and now he was knocked down without a chance to get up.

Defeat and despair spread quickly, burying every other feeling underneath. Ciel couldn't hide and he couldn't stop feeling. He just kept sitting at this stupid table, looking at Sebastian silently, helpless and weak. The sheer hopelessness of the situation started to push the pained moisture into his eyes, and if he cried in front of Sebastian, over this…

He would rather die.

With an effort he was certain he wasn't capable of making, Ciel raised his head higher.

Words. He still had words. He'd never been physically strong, but words were always his weapon. He could twist them into a knife, and he could stab it right into Sebastian's hollow chest.

He didn't need any plan for this. He was smart and enraged enough to improvise.

"An illusion," he said quietly. The second he started speaking, the blissful calmness rushed to his aid, draining every trace of tears from his eyes. Even better, it allowed him to stare at Sebastian defiantly. "You are calling that picture an illusion."

"Isn't it?" Sebastian tilted his head, his mocking smirk growing wider. Ciel shaped his lips in a ghost of an answering smile.

"If it is," he murmured, "then we can terminate our contract right now, and you won't be able to lay a finger on me in reiteration."

Sebastian's eyes flashed in a warning. The temperature in the room dropped, sending clusters of shivers over Ciel's arms.

"I'm extremely curious as to how you came to this conclusion," Sebastian spoke evenly. He still had several butler traits on, but most of them were gone. He felt like a demon more than a servant, and that meant Ciel was on the right track.

"Why do you think you're on that picture, Sebastian?" he wondered. "Out of everyone who could appear, why did it happen to be you?"

The more he talked, the less Sebastian liked it. His shoulders tensed, his posture shifted as if he was preparing to repel an attack, and the delight licked at Ciel's inner wounds, soothing their smarting impact.

Sebastian was on the defensive now. And he'd barely even started.

"The camera shows the being most treasured by a person photographed," Sebastian said. The defensiveness slowly faded, with arrogant confidence starting to shine on his face again. "I assume the results are self-explanatory. You have gotten attached. It happens to humans, and truly, I'm honoured, but—"

Ciel opened his mouth and laughed. His laughter was loud, low, and completely unpleasant — just the effect he needed.

"I have gotten attached?" he repeated. His teeth flashed in a grin when Sebastian stiffened again. It felt like every drop of his confidence was migrating to Ciel, so he took it all in, parting with his uncertainty and watching how it filled Sebastian in response.

"Charming," Ciel commented dryly. "But entirely wrong. Did you honestly think that you're more important to me than my parents? Than Madam Red? Than all other people I knew and lost even before I met you? Please." Ciel leaned forward. The excitement burning through him probably found its path into his eyes because he could almost feel them gleam with its sparks.

"You are nothing," he said with relish, and when Sebastian's face twisted in a startled grimace, he licked his lips involuntarily. Who needed breakfast when he could feast on the wounded feelings of a stupid demon? "If any Sebastian stood a chance of appearing in the picture because of my regard for him, that would be my dog. Not you. Never you. So think again."

Sebastian's upper lip curled in a snarl. His fury was like a black cloud, poisoning the air in the room with its toxicity, and Ciel breathed it in, revelling in the bliss each inhale brought to him.

"You are in that photo because you represent my deepest wish," he said finally, rolling each word on his tongue before letting it out. "When I agreed to a contract with you, I put my trust in you. I chose to believe that you would help me to find and erase those responsible for what happened to me. You promised me my revenge, and that is all I want. I want it more than I love anyone — that includes my deceased family. You are the creature that can let that happen."

Sebastian's shape flickered, merging with darkness for a moment. His eyes were blood-red, glowing in such an inhuman way that it was positively fascinating. Curiously, Ciel lowered his eyes, trying to count how many of human versus demon attributes Sebastian was wearing now. In addition to the disturbing eyes and flickering outlines, there was something resembling claws growing from his nails, right from the white gloves. Ciel snorted from how absurd this looked, and his mood climbed up another notch.

"Rest assured, I treasure you immensely, Sebastian," he said, throwing back every bit of condescension he'd absorbed today. "You are my weapon. And I sure hope it's not an illusion because if it is, then you failed the contract and you'll have to release me from it without consequences. I have no need for inefficient soldiers."

Sebastian hissed at him. This came across as even more inhuman than the eyes, and Ciel couldn't help but laugh.

"What's the matter?" he drawled in amusement. "Are you angry about it? Honestly, I have no idea why your thoughts jumped to the idea of attachment in the first place. Perhaps you are projecting? I did wonder why you were so adamant about refusing to be photographed."

Sebastian backed away, still flickering between the forms like he couldn't keep control over one. His eyes were abnormally wide, and he looked cornered like a wild animal: enraged and scared, wanting to attack as much as wanting to escape.

Shrugging, Ciel turned his attention to his breakfast.

"It's cold now," he complained. "Go reheat it."

Sebastian didn't move right away, but Ciel didn't expect him to, not in the state he was in. Carelessly, he reached for the pastry, stuffing it into his mouth and almost moaning in pleasure.

It was delicious. And he was suddenly extremely hungry.

He'd need to eat a lot today because after what he was going to stage at night, he might have to spend the next day without any decent food at all. If Sebastian was this angry now, Ciel could only imagine how he'd act after this evening.

This was just the beginning. He would never stop making Sebastian pay.

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The rest of the day passed in a blur. What happened in the morning gave Ciel an energy boost for the hours that followed, so he spent some time in his office, checked on the garden, watched his servants chase after Pluto and then being chased by him in return. Something darker kept shifting at the edges of his good mood, but he stopped his thoughts from going in that direction.

He had two goals. He would enjoy his day, compensating for the torturous hour of the morning, and then he would raze Sebastian's composure to the ground, just like he'd almost done to him today.

At four o'clock, Ciel left the manor with Tanaka, ordering Sebastian to stay behind. That didn't elicit any reaction. Sebastian was very quiet for the entire day, but while he kept his face carefully even, Ciel knew it was a mask. He knew, and yet he would still take great pleasure from shattering it.

The trip with Tanaka was uneventful. They travelled around London for some time, Ciel ate his fill at one of the cafés, and then they went back.

This wouldn't be something he'd tell Sebastian. All that he had to know was the fact of this trip.

They still hadn't exchanged more than ten impersonal words by the time Ciel was supposed to retire. He went to his bedroom a little earlier, doing his best to disrobe and put on his nightgown. He was terrible at dressing himself in everyday clothes, but taking them off was almost easy, so in rare cases like this, he could do that without Sebastian's unwanted assistance.

Instead of getting into bed, Ciel sat in the chair at his chess table, stretched his legs comfortably, and began to wait, twirling the figure of a king in his fingers.

Sebastian entered fifteen minutes later, stopping at the threshold and observing him with an unreadable expression.

"You're already dressed for the night," he remarked unnecessarily. Ciel shrugged a little.

"As you see," he said. Silence dragged on as they stared at one another, with the intensity of it almost making the air crackle.

When it didn't look like Sebastian was going to say anything first, Ciel decided to start.

It was time.

"Do you know where I've been today?" he asked. Putting the king in the centre of the board, he stood up, watching Sebastian in leisurely amusement. "Tanaka brought me to Annesley's house. I thought I'd seen something interesting there last time, so I decided to check."

"Oh?" Sebastian clarified politely. "What would that be?"

Nothing about him changed outwardly, but with how intently Ciel was focused on him, he could almost see a tiny stream of tension that started pulsing through his body. A thin bluish vein on his neck twitched. Granted, it could be simply Ciel's imagination, but his vision wasn't restricted by his patch now, and while his marked eye was generally useless, it always seemed to register every small shift happening with, within, and about Sebastian.

"Annesley was trying to summon a demon," Ciel informed. This time, he definitely didn't imagine the way Sebastian blanched. "I don't know why, if he succeeded, and whether this was the reason that made you kill him. But I was curious about the methods he used."

That was one blow, so he took one step towards where Sebastian was standing. He thought Ciel didn't remember anything from their drunk conversation, and using the facts he himself had shared made the revenge doubly sweet.

"I was thinking about what you told me today," Ciel continued. "How seeing you on that picture was an illusion. How I'm putting too much faith in you to believe that you would ever succeed in fulfilling your part of the contract."

"That was a misunderstanding," Sebastian uttered through gritted teeth. His eyes flashed with a bright, vivid red, and Ciel's heart jumped in excitement. "I didn't mean—"

"But it's the truth, isn't it? You're useless."

Another twitch, this one far more pronounced. A quiet, barely audible infuriated hiss. The temperature dropped, and with that, Ciel took a second step closer.

"It's been years and we haven't progressed at all," he pointed out. "You seem to be more content with playing a butler than investigating anything. You constantly distort the orders I give you, and that includes the initial stipulations of our contract. So after this morning, I asked myself, do I really need you? See, I have no idea how I managed to summon you in the first place. Whatever you say on the matter isn't reliable, so how can I know what drew you in? Maybe you are the weakest demon out of all, one who's shunned by everyone and who's forced to look for people in a desperate condition. Maybe, if I were to actually summon a demon purposefully, I would end up with a stronger and more competent servant."

The room was already plunged into darkness, but now even the remaining lights were swallowed by it. Layer upon layer of blackness rolled over the ceiling, slid down the walls, and spilled across the floor. A pair of burning red eyes was the only thing Ciel could see now, so he stepped in its direction.

"And that is exactly what I tried to do today," he declared. His heart was hammering like a drum, a hot sense of triumph clinging to his bones until they felt full of fire, ready to propel him up and make him fly. Sebastian did so in his human form, so maybe the wings weren't a necessity. "I summoned a demon. They might have ignored Annesley, but one of them came to talk to me. And it was a very… fruitful conversation."

Another step. From this distance, Ciel could finally see what Sebastian looked like.

He was a shape, not a human. The curls of darkness were shifting around his body restlessly, entwining with feathers and forming a mad, fascinating picture. The whiteness of his bared fangs was glistening through the dark, and the palpable fury shadowed him like a cloak.

Just one more step remaining.

"That other demon is interested in the contract with me," Ciel murmured softly. Sebastian's thin lips stretched in an abnormally long line as they let out a growl. "He said he knows you and that he'll be able to take the contract from you if I choose to terminate it. And I'll be honest, Sebastian… I'm very, very tempted. During the ten minutes we spent together, he managed to impress me far more than you did in years."

Another growl reverberated through the room, and the feather rain crashed down on him. Ciel couldn't recall any other instance where it was this voluminous, not even in the direst situations they experienced.

"If my soul has to belong to someone," he whispered, "then it should belong to the worthiest candidate. And I'm coming to the conclusion that it's not you. That demon, on the other hand—"

He didn't get a chance to finish his phrase. He didn't get a chance to take the last step either because in a blink of a second, Sebastian crossed the remaining distance between them himself. Hands that weren't really hands wrapped around his throat and flung him against the wall — they didn't let go for a moment, only tightening their clawed grip.

Ciel's lungs quickly caught fire. The touch of this pure darkness felt strange: it was so cold that it felt hot, so deadly that it was comforting. His head spun, but exhilaration burned the brightest. Ciel grinned, fighting to keep his eyes open.

He'd succeeded in making Sebastian assume his true form with words alone. This time, no outside threats were involved — he did it by himself, using only the power of lies.

Whatever happened next, he won, and he got his revenge. He might never get his photograph now, but at least he'd put Sebastian through a similar hell.

"I will murder you before I release you from the contract," Sebastian hissed into his face. His voice was a raspy, inhuman thing. "If any demon dares to approach you, I'll tear them limb from limb."

"Very frightening," Ciel managed to push out. His vision was flickering wildly, but he tried to hold onto the edge of consciousness, using the flaring red eyes as his anchor.

Sebastian leaned closer — as close as they had been in that self-made meadow yesterday, when for a moment, Ciel felt like he was about to be kissed.

"What is wrong with you?" Sebastian wheezed, his strange voice tilting demandingly. "Do you understand how easy it would be for me to kill you? If I press even a little harder now, you'll be dead. No more dinners. No newspapers in bed. No investigations, no revenge that you want so desperately."

"Do it," Ciel whispered back. He wasn't sure if his light-headedness was the result of strangulation or giddiness, but he welcomed it either way.

He would take this raw expression of emotions over every fake display of politeness Sebastian had been subjecting him to. If he were to die, he would die in the blaze of victory, knowing that he'd managed to drive someone as ancient as a demon to the brink of such an utter fury.

He doubted that Sebastian had ever killed one of his previous masters out of possessiveness. He was special, he stood out, and he would always be remembered as someone who had demolished any sense of Sebastian's self-control.

This was enough.

But the grip on his neck suddenly loosened. Sebastian snatched his hand away as if burned, staring at Ciel with a heavy dark gaze.

"You are insane," he said flatly. The air shifted, and then Sebastian was gone. The moonlight returned to the room immediately, blinding Ciel for a moment. Squinting, he coughed, massaging his throat and trying to determine how sore it was.

He was alive. He'd taken his revenge and he was alive. Sebastian couldn't have possibly fallen any lower.

Ciel burst into laughter, even though each sound made his throat ache. Still chuckling, he climbed into his bed, curling on his right side and snuggling into his pillow comfortably.

It didn't matter that Madam Red's scar was going to fade now. He had something much better to hold onto.

Gingerly, Ciel pressed his fingers into the bruises on his neck, shuddering when a jolt of pained pleasure rolled through him in response.

These marks were the physical evidence of his victory. Every time he touched them, he would remember that he'd won. Most importantly, Sebastian would share this knowledge.

Another smile found its way onto his lips.

Ciel fell asleep just like that, with his fingers burrowed into his red bruises.

A/N: Next chapter should be Sebastian's POV for the key events of the previous chapters + some new moments.

Replies:

Manon and James Birdsong, thank you both so much for your continued comments!

Sour Queen, ouch, I'm sorry all this happened to you, and in such a short period of time! :( It's the worst when troubles don't come alone. My last several years have also been not the best (beloved people and pets dying), and writing/reading is such a reprieve. And omg, I totally forgot about your proofreading offer once again... there are such big pauses between the chapters that most things escape my mind by the time I finish writing the update. I'm sorry and thank you for still being willing to help me out! I'm also so glad that you keep enjoying this story - Ciel and Sebastian both have so many problems with expression of their feelings, they are practically hopeless, but this makes writing all the more exciting :D

Aleta Wolff, thank you, I'm happy you enjoyed it!

HillaryPlotter, thank you so much for such an amazing comment, I'm delighted that you liked this chapter so much - the Demon Hound episodes are some of my least favorite, so I'm glad you think I still managed to make those events enjoyable. I agree with you, most men (at least RL men and characters I know) process feelings differently. It's difficult for anyone to deal with complex emotions, but when these people are also emotionally constipated in the first place? It's a disaster.

Ciel did get under Sebastian's skin, so now he's going to be torn between the extremes: petty attempts to undermine him, to prove to himself that he doesn't care, changing into almost uncontrollable bursts of feelings that he cannot fight properly. Poor Sebastian)) I haven't heard about The Karpman Drama Triangle, thank you for mentioning it! This is fascinating stuff.

And yes, definitely, Sebastian's true form tends to horrify humans! Ciel is the only exception that delights in it, which makes Sebastian feel almost intimidated.

Loved your analogy between the dog = Sebastian. It's true, isn't it? Ciel might be the Queen's Watchdog, but Sebastian is acting very similarly, so they are both in same boat :D

Thank you so much again! Hope you liked the new chapter as well.

Guest, thank you!))

Rumi, oh, thank you so much! It's an honor to know that you like this story enough to re-read it.

QuestGuest, thank you, I'm so happy you're enjoying this even though you aren't fond of Sebaciel! And you've been a reader since chapter 3 - that's so great to know! I hope you'll keep enjoying it. Thank you so much for your generous offer - to be honest, since there are big pauses between the chapters, I tend to completely forget about some of my readers being willing to help out when I finally start writing. I plan to do some editing soon, and after that, maybe I could take ypu up on your offer! Thank you again!

October's Daughter, oh, thank you so much for your kind words! Getting your comment when it arrived made my whole day. I'm so extremely happy to hear that you liked my story so much, it means a huge deal to me! I'm also so excited that you noticed the tea set :D Indeed, this is the one, I wanted to create some brief background for that upcoming moment with Soma. I think BB anime is great because it leaves so many things vague or unaddressed. Ciel and Sebastian's attitudes to one another change abruptly without any evident prompting, as if something serious is happening between the episodes that we aren't aware of. Or like at the end of the photograph episode: being exposed like he was with the picture must be hellish for Ciel. So how do he and Sebastian go from an absolute disaster there to a more relax and friendly bond in the next episodes? Exploring it is so much fun.

Thank you again, I really hope you'll keep enjoying this story!

ruinedsandwich, haha, I can relate! I love slow burns, but they can be maddening :D And thank you, I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing!

lkdaswani, wow, I'm always so happy to hear that someone is re-reading this story! It's really a huge compliment. And yes, Sebastian's POV will come after this chapter, so we're finally there :D There is a lot of ground to cover. I love jealous Sebastian and Ciel as well - although jealous Sebastian is probably my favorire, seeing Ciel's feathers ruffled is also great. I can only imagine how his jealousy will progress in the future.